[The grin broadens again and he looks back at the bar where an audible commotion has clearly broken out. Probably the man trying to get everyone out of the way. They'll have a head start, even though they stopped.
Nyx doesn't give Prompto a chance to agonize over the decision. He is fully on board with not losing Prompto, and these streets can be dim even with the lights. So he grips Prompto's hand and sets off briskly, leading him out of the alley entrance.]
[Prompto opens his mouth to ask why he looked so happy, but he shuts it immediately when he hears the ruckus behind them. Then Nyx is grabbing his hand and his heart is stuck in his throat. If he stumbles it's out of shock, but soon he's righting himself and holding onto Nyx's hand tight.
...
There was something exciting about it. Keeping up with the man, escaping a sketchy situation. The liquor buzzing in his head and making him feel good despite all that has happened, and maybe... just maybe a grin is reaching him too.
[Nyx picks up their pace as much as he feels he can dare with Prompto keeping up with him, hearing shouting break into the air behind them after they turned the corner.
There aren't that many people out, many of them still drinking at this hour, but Nyx still keeps track of everyone he sees. Part of him categorizing potential threats; recognizing some regulars that might slow down their pursuer. It's second nature when adrenaline is rushing through his veins.
He keeps glancing back to make sure Prompto is still with him, even though he hasn't let go of his hand. Doesn't want him to push too hard and burn out.
Fortunately it's not very long before they reach another alley, narrow this time. Buildings pressing in close. Nyx pulls up, and nudges for Prompto to go ahead of him, then turns around. The man is storming after them, his pride clearly insulted. Nyx rubs his fingers together and calls up the cold.
Magic chills his veins when he extends his arm towards the ground, ice building up around his fingers, and when he releases it the road becomes slick for several yards, gleaming in the lamplights.]
That'll slow him down. Go. All the way to the end.
[Prompto isn't sure if the shiver that runs down his spine is from the chill in the air, the adrenaline and the situation, or from how Nyx looks right now. A combination of the three felt more likely, it warms the pit of his stomach, where it feels like butterflies were trying to burst free.
Letting out a breath he didn't realize he was holding in, letting go of his hand was harder than he thought it would be. Touch lingering longer than necessary before he's doing as he's told. Not fond of tight spaces, he'd cite his self diagnosis of claustrophobia, but he's being thankfully silent.
[Nyx stays long enough to make sure the spell doesn't fade, and then he's ducking through as well. He catches up to him easily, setting a hand on his back reassuringly as the light is left behind.]
Watch your step.
[His voice is low, almost distracted as he counts his steps and listens behind them.
Unfortunately for Prompto, the rusted gate near the end of the alley leads down into what seems like a smaller and darker place. It seems like no one's even touched it in years, but Nyx shoulders it open with a motion that seems practiced.
A few steps down, once he's outside of immediate view from the alley entrance, Nyx calls up a small flame in his hand, bathing the stairs in warm light. He still looks thrilled from the run, eyes gleaming as he once again looks Prompto over. He steps against the wall to give him room so he can close the gate behind them.]
[Maybe he did have too much to drink. A person's voice shouldn't go through him like that. It makes his breath hitch and his skin at the nape of his neck break out in goosebumps. Fighting back a shiver he does watch his step, trying to focus on this and nothing else.
His breathing becomes a little labored, however. Because he did have a fear of close, confined and dark spaces. Fingers trembling as they brush against the wall in front of him. Just... breathe. He needed to breathe.
One step in front of the other.
Breathe.
His breathing is still shallow but he's doing his best to stay calm.]
Y-Yeah. Perfectly okay.
[He didn't sound it, but he was trying to be a trooper about everything. Brushing passed him, trying to be as fast as possible without hecking up his steps or anything.
[It takes more effort to close the gate than it did to open it, less leverage, but it slots back into place. Distantly he can hear shouting echoing down the alley. Nyx shakes his head and turns away from it.
Danger over, concern is once again at the forefront of his mind as he realizes Prompto isn't breathing quite right. Unaware of the reason, he watches his progress to make sure he's not going to wobble. It hits him that he doesn't know all that much about his royal highness's friend. Did he have a health condition? Did Nyx push him too hard on the way here? Guilt curls ugly in his gut.
Maybe he should have found a different way. Risked a single warp to a rooftop or something. The weight of the dagger sheathed against his hip felt like an accusation.
The stairs open out a little at the bottom at another old door, hanging half open. Nyx stops Prompto before they go through, nudging him around to face him.]
Prompto. Look at me.
[His expression is pointedly serious as he places his free hand on Prompto's chest, feeling how little his lungs are drawing in, how fast he's breathing. If he can't figure out how to help...]
It's going to be okay. I'm not going to let anything happen to you.
[Prompto is only vaguely aware of what was happening. So intent on moving forward and needing- desperately needing open spaces so he can breathe properly and not feel so caged in. Something about closed spaces that did something to him, made something like a memory itch at the back of his mind, but when he reached for it all he had was darkness and confusion.
He barely registers the nudging until he's facing Nyx, wide eyes looking up at him.
He wondered if he knew how handsome he is.
Right. Looking at him.
His gaze falters, it's... not right for him to catch eye contact with someone so cool, kind and attractive. He was too insignificant for that. The hand on his chest earned some heart palpitations for reasons other than his claustrophobia.
But he's brought back to reality, shaking his head a little, a burst of nervous laughter bubbling from him.]
The guilt grows and latches on. It twitches across his face before he schools his expression. He hadn't known, but that was no excuse. He should have made sure. Hell, he could have just kicked that guy's ass and then this wouldn't have been an issue at all. It wouldn't have been the first time he'd gotten into brawls in these places.
The Glaive didn't have problems like that, so he's not entirely sure how to handle it. He defaults to coaching through the strains of using too much magic, hoping that somewhere it might be similar enough to help.]
Look at me.
[It's soft, but direct this time. Meant to catch and hopefully keep Prompto's focus. He spreads his fingers and very deliberately deepens his own breathing.]
Watch me. Take deep breaths.
[He exaggerates the movement of his chest, inhaling slowly and breathing out in order for Prompto to try and match it, never breaking eye contact.]
It's okay.
It's sturdy. There'll be light, and I'm going to be right by your side. The Glaive and I have been through here a lot. I will personally guarantee your safety. I promise you.
[It was hard. It was so hard to look at him and maintain eye contact. The crush? That spontaneously cropped up? (Not like he lingered by the gates when walking Noctis home, to catch a glimpse and a wave if Nyx happened to be in the vicinity,} he could deal with. Maybe. Maintaining eye contact when he was dealing with this embarrassing problem... Nyx probably thought he was just a lame kid with a dumb phobia.
But he's taking deep breaths, breathing with him.
Okay... okay.]
I know...
[He didn't mean to let that come out as shaky as it did, but at least his heart rate was going down and his breaths came out more steady. Closing his eyes, letting out a far more solid breath.]
Thanks... I'm sorry I'm being so lame. I can continue now, promise.
[Nyx watches him for several seconds more, just to be sure, before being satisfied.]
You should look up the definition of lame. The man I see in front of me is far from feeble.
[He ruffles his hand over Prompto's hair proudly, and uses his foot to nudge the door open all the way.]
It takes a lot of courage to go somewhere that every fiber of your being is fighting against without complaint.
[He steps into the tunnel proper, lifting his blazing hand to shed more light on it. It's big enough that they could comfortably walk next to each other, with old burnt out bulbs along the ceiling that maintenance must have used back when the tunnel was active. The walls are covered in multi-coloured graffiti that stretch even along the occasional access door. He waits for Prompto, patient and watchful.
Fortunately they won't be in here long. He knows just where to go.]
[Prompto needs to chew on the inside of his mouth, so as not to show how much that hit him. No one... no one ever said stuff like that to him? The alcohol still in his system, chin trembling only slightly, oh gods don't cry...
He is so thankful for the hair ruffle, even though he protests it weakly by ducking his head and trying to shoo the man away. Muttering a 'thanks' under his breath.
Prompto not knowing how to respond to positive feedback? Makes him keep his mouth shut, nodding a little as he let's Nyx go first. Watching him a moment before he joins him.]
Man... I didn't even know these places existed.
[Something to break the quiet, stepping a little closer to the older man. He felt safe, the warmth from the flame also made him feel better. He shudders a little at how the shadows danced around as they walked, biting back a whine.]
...Do you believe in ghosts?
[A pause.]
I-I mean. I don't! ...But if they did exist I bet they'd be haunting a place like this.
[Nyx contemplates the question, letting Prompto set their pace as he falls into step with him. There are times when he'd think being honest about this would be in poor taste, but he'd hardly backtrack now after commending him on his bravery.]
I believe in daemons.
[Believed in them since the day he first saw one bearing down on the Glaive. It wasn't a good memory. They'd been too inexperienced.]
Outside the Wall? A place like this would be perfect for them. Old, abandoned, forgotten history in ruins.
[If he had to pick a fear.]
But I trust the king. I trust the Wall. If there are any ghosts here...they're the ones watching over their people. Or so the legend goes.
[That he's not so sure he believes in. They all grew up with stories of the Old Wall, but... he shrugs a shoulder.]
Wonder what they'd have lost, to be haunting a quiet place like this.
[He's quiet when he listens, in part because he doesn't know how to respond. Prompto is scared... of most things. Tangible things like failure, and spiders... and most bugs? Okay. All bugs. Pain. Fighting? Being forgotten... living alone. A lot of things. Then there were the fears about ghosts, daemons and everything in between. Treants? They made trees scary!
He steps a little closer, bumping shoulders and he apologizes under his breath.
Prompto contemplates what was last said, turning his gaze down to watch shadows flicker and the slight wobble in his own steps.
To haunt a place like this...]
Maybe they never had anything in the first place.
[It's blurted out before he can stops himself. And now that it's out there he can't bring it back. Hands stretched out in front of him, entwining his fingers together nice and tight to the point his knuckles ache a little.]
A lonely place for a lonely sort of people. I think... if you're so used to the quiet and darkness, where no one knows you exist... you'd be drawn to places like these. Couldn't be near people, it's too noisy and you'd be forced to watch the sort of thing you were never able to obtain when you're alive.
[A tremble. In his tone and his hands, so he untangles his fingers, his right arm stretching to the side so he can touch the old and forgotten concrete and stone that made up the walls.]
So you go somewhere forgotten.
[A beat.]
That's what I think.
[It hits too close to home, and he's not sober enough to realize how it all sounds. Until he does and he blinks back unshed tears. Oh great. He's an emotional drunk! That's not manly!
Huffing out an amused sound, scuffing his shoe lamely.]
Don't listen to me, they fed me waaaaaaaay too many drinks back there! Got me thinking dumb things.
[Nyx ignores the apology, letting their shoulders continue to brush unless Prompto himself moves away again. He unable to disagree entirely with what he's saying, either. It makes sense that the dead and lingering could be lonely. He also can't say he hasn't had the thought before.
What stops him--not abruptly, but a gradual slowing of steps until he's standing and watching Prompto--is how vulnerable he suddenly sounds. As if talking about spirits is somehow personal. The fire flickers, magic a warm, grounding tug in his veins.
He doesn't quite understand. He's seen Prompto and the Prince interact. They were inseperable, practically brothers. His Highness clearly thought the world of him. All Prompto had to do was ask-
But would he? He brushes off a panic attack like it means nothing, shrugs off concern as if he doesn't think people should spend the time and care on him. Probably hasn't even hinted at this around his friends. He's so vibrant'Don't listen to me.' 'Forget it, I'm being dumb.' 'It doesn't matter.'
It meets the guilt lingering in his chest and twists, an ugly lump in his throat. If things were different, Prompto could have been one of them. Almost all of the Glaive had been alone before Regis gave them a purpose. Lost with nothing left to guide them, save for a talent and the trust of a King.
His free hand taps on the hilt of the kukri at his hip and he looks down for a moment; struggling with himself.
Nyx breaks the silence with an uncharacteristically hesitant tone.]
[Prompto slows to a stop when he no longer feels the warmth or Nyx's presence anymore. Dread settles deep in his stomach, something cold and halting that chills him to his core, extinguishing any warmth that he had. Did... did he do something? Say something stupid? Panicking inwardly, trying to remember all of what he's said and done in the past twenty minutes or so.
...All of it was stupid.
Did Nyx finally realize he rescued a total mess?
Prompto turns, worrying his fingers together and his bottom lip between his teeth. He can't quite make eye contact, taking a nervous little step forward towards him. But hesitant.]
[He reaches out, touching fingers to Prompto's arm to guide him towards one of the doors. Here he hesitates again. People don't come down here much on their own, and, well, it's not like the Glaive are often in a habit of showing people the dark corners of the map.
Astrals, Nyx, this is stupid. He takes a deep breath and twists the handle.
Despite the rust and age, the door swings open with barely a whisper of sound. The hingest all much newer than anything else down here. Inside is a room with metal bunks. He absolutely does not pause at all as he steps through and moves to a box in the corner. A few buttons and a swift smack later, and the small generator hums to life. Nyx extinguishes the flame as a lamp wired to the ceiling overhead switches on.
It was clearly put in long after the place was abandoned. The wires were exposed, taped to the ceiling and wall to keep the lamp centered. The bedclothes on several of the bunks also looked newer than ancient, and only marginally dusty. It's clearly a place someone has slept in within the last few years. Several someones.
On a small, twisted table between bunks there's a small collection of books and a deck of cards. Tucked underneath one of the beds is a container of water bottles. There are small chests under the other beds that haven't looked like they've been open for awhile.
The room itself seems plain. The graffiti artists from the tunnel didn't seem to have touched this one. The walls were the same old stone as the rest, with no adornments to imply people lived here once. But Nyx stands on the other side of the room to face the door, and then gestures above it with a nod of his head.]
[He feels like maybe he should be more scared than he actually is: which is not at all. But he trusts Nyx with every fiber of his being, and if the man said he wasn't going to hurt him, then he was certain he couldn't be in a safer place. Safety was with him. That didn't mean his nerves didn't go away, nervous and jumpy were his main settings most of the time? Except during the day he could mask that with jokes and laughter, with a smile that sometimes doesn't quite reach his eyes.
Remaining quiet as he watches the man enter the room, holding back the flurry of questions he wanted to ask. What is this place? Who stays here? Is this what he wanted to show him? Why?
Instead he leans against the door frame, rubbing his arm idly.
Only when Nyx motions for him does he step through the threshold and into the room. Checking the ceiling and maybe the corners for spiders (listen, arachnophobia was also a very real fear of his, and this looked like a spidery place.) But he couldn't see any or anything that would concern himself.
Suddenly feeling shy, he averts his gaze... rubbing his arm again.]
[There's a single spot of colour just above the door. In inexperienced hand, sloppily painted, Hearth and Home stretched across, with smaller words scattered around it. Upon closer inspection, Prompto may recognize some of the names of outer provinces.
Galahd was written up there in Nyx's own hand; his name messy underneath. It's been a long time since he looked at it.
He moves to sit on one of the bunks, resting his elbows on his knees and linking his fingertips together.]
Most of us were refugees. Kids from small towns that had no hope of standing up against the roll of the empire. I guess you could say I was a "ghost" when I arrived in Insomnia.
[Prompto watches him curiously, taking in the room again. He... didn't know where to sit, or where to put himself. He felt out of place and also humbled. The alcohol buzzing at the corner of his mind, it made him a little braver but not by much.]
[Nyx looks up at him again finally, his smile awkward. He's not offended, not in the least. He just....never shared this sort of thing with anyone outside the Glaives.
He shifts his weight to the left along the bed, a silent invitation for Prompto to sit.]
The King saved me. Made me what I am today, it just took a long time to get there.
A lot of us joined together. Not all of us made it. But those of us that did worked twice as hard for the ones that didn't. And when it got a little too much to be alone at night...we'd come here. We'd remember.
[He pauses long enough that his words almost feel weighted when he opens his mouth again.]
Everyone has something, Prompto. Whether it's a grand purpose or the trust of a friend. Maybe you just...really like Wednesday morning cartoons.
[He hesitates at the invitation, but only for a moment. Then he takes the offered seat on the bed. ...Next to him. Maybe a little too close, he wasn't really sure how far apart two men should sit on a bed. He's never! Sat on a bed with another man before!!
...He is overthinking and he knows that.
Hands in his lap, fingers entwined again and he focuses on that, and not the man next to him.]
Oh... I see. That makes sense. It's nice that you all could have this, at the very least.
[But his throat tightens as he listens.
Everyone has something.
His chin trembles and he makes a strained sound that could be thought of as a laugh.]
N-No... no, I know that. I do. I've got Noct, I've got photography. A-And- [Clearing his throat over the lump that was forming.]
I'm lucky, you know? He's a great friend, I've admired him for years. Only... Only recently did I think I was good enough to approach him. I wasn't much when I was a kid, a chubby loner in an empty house. A nobody who wasn't quite right to meet a prince.
But I worked at it. I worked so hard.
Running... helped me reach my goals, but it was also something to do in the morning instead of sitting around an empty kitchen. Something to do after school before I resigned myself to homework, supper then bed. I... I still like to read and play video games by myself, because that's what I always did.
[It was all just coming out and he couldn't stop it. His cheeks felt wet but the reason wasn't registering. Nyx didn't need to hear this, no one needed to hear this. He probably should have slipped his phone in his pocket and tried to duck out of the bar on his own. He always turned into a sad little mess after drinking. Especially when he drank alone.]
But... at the end of the day, when Noct is back home and being a Prince, who am I really? My apartment is so... big? Meant for a family. I don't even remember what a family is. I'm not even allowed beyond the gates to visit my best friend, because I'm insignificant, a lowly peasant scuffing the heels of royal boots.
I'm- I'm okay with it? I think I am. Because the few hours I get, where I can laugh and joke and be okay... it's nice. But I don't like going home. It's empty there... it's quiet. And it makes me feel worthless and insignificant.
Like. Like I don't belong.
[There was so much more that he didn't say. How he would talk constantly to fill the silence within those walls. Turn on the television nice and loud, so the empty spaces had sound. Some sort of life.]
...It's why I went to those bars tonight. I just... wanted to be near people even though I was alone.
[Nyx wants to hug him, but he doesn't know if the gesture would be taken in the spirit it's meant. He wants to comfort him, offer support and genuine care. But would he see it, instead, as pity? Empty sympathy? How does he say he knows what an empty home can be like, even though sometimes it's Nyx's way of winding down from stress? Or that belonging as part of a greater whole often feels like a myth when natural born citizens of Insomnia look at him like he's distasteful and unnecessary?
It's a far cry from not being able to visit your best friend whenever you want to. Nyx, at least, has friends that go through the same things as he does. Friends he can share a beer with and vent.
He leans close enough so that their shoulders are touching, at a bit of a loss.]
You've got a better track record than me. [His tone is even, if a bit self-deprecating.] I don't think I've ever left that bar without being in the middle of the fight. [Until tonight.
Joking aside.]
His Highness values you. I know for a fact he has a sneaking out contingency plan on the off chance he's needed. [Whether it'll work or not is anyone's guess, really, but it's there.]
And...
You have my number. [It's both a fact, and an offer. You asked him for help, and he came. Very few can say they have a Glaive at their side when they need one. Sure, initially it was more out of a need to keep His Highness's best friend out of danger, but he's come to know Prompto a lot more now. He suspects that next time he won't even think about Prince Noctis before agreeing to come.]
Any time, day or night. If I'm able, then there's nothing that'll keep me from answering.
[Prompto can feel himself lean against him more than he intended. Someone so starved for any sort of attention, anything from someone else. It's why he laughed so loud, inviting people near him because he needed it. To have it from Nyx in a moment where he felt vulnerable and alone, he counted it as a blessing.
He's quiet for a long moment, worrying his fingers together a bit more, trying to pull them free because his finger joints were starting to ache.
Finally he's wiping his eyes on the hem of his shirt, which he's pulling out because man... did he ever get gross with the waterworks. Ugh... in front of someone he admired so much. Good job, Prompto.]
Yeah...
Yeah.
[Finally a smile breaks on his face, it's shy and simple but it's there.]
You don't need to do that, but I appreciate it. You were incredible tonight. Savin' my butt.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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Nyx doesn't give Prompto a chance to agonize over the decision. He is fully on board with not losing Prompto, and these streets can be dim even with the lights. So he grips Prompto's hand and sets off briskly, leading him out of the alley entrance.]
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...
There was something exciting about it. Keeping up with the man, escaping a sketchy situation. The liquor buzzing in his head and making him feel good despite all that has happened, and maybe... just maybe a grin is reaching him too.
By the Six he must be crazy or something.]
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There aren't that many people out, many of them still drinking at this hour, but Nyx still keeps track of everyone he sees. Part of him categorizing potential threats; recognizing some regulars that might slow down their pursuer. It's second nature when adrenaline is rushing through his veins.
He keeps glancing back to make sure Prompto is still with him, even though he hasn't let go of his hand. Doesn't want him to push too hard and burn out.
Fortunately it's not very long before they reach another alley, narrow this time. Buildings pressing in close. Nyx pulls up, and nudges for Prompto to go ahead of him, then turns around. The man is storming after them, his pride clearly insulted. Nyx rubs his fingers together and calls up the cold.
Magic chills his veins when he extends his arm towards the ground, ice building up around his fingers, and when he releases it the road becomes slick for several yards, gleaming in the lamplights.]
That'll slow him down. Go. All the way to the end.
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Letting out a breath he didn't realize he was holding in, letting go of his hand was harder than he thought it would be. Touch lingering longer than necessary before he's doing as he's told. Not fond of tight spaces, he'd cite his self diagnosis of claustrophobia, but he's being thankfully silent.
Glancing back to see if Nyx is following.]
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Watch your step.
[His voice is low, almost distracted as he counts his steps and listens behind them.
Unfortunately for Prompto, the rusted gate near the end of the alley leads down into what seems like a smaller and darker place. It seems like no one's even touched it in years, but Nyx shoulders it open with a motion that seems practiced.
A few steps down, once he's outside of immediate view from the alley entrance, Nyx calls up a small flame in his hand, bathing the stairs in warm light. He still looks thrilled from the run, eyes gleaming as he once again looks Prompto over. He steps against the wall to give him room so he can close the gate behind them.]
You okay?
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His breathing becomes a little labored, however. Because he did have a fear of close, confined and dark spaces. Fingers trembling as they brush against the wall in front of him. Just... breathe. He needed to breathe.
One step in front of the other.
Breathe.
His breathing is still shallow but he's doing his best to stay calm.]
Y-Yeah. Perfectly okay.
[He didn't sound it, but he was trying to be a trooper about everything. Brushing passed him, trying to be as fast as possible without hecking up his steps or anything.
Life is hard.]
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Danger over, concern is once again at the forefront of his mind as he realizes Prompto isn't breathing quite right. Unaware of the reason, he watches his progress to make sure he's not going to wobble. It hits him that he doesn't know all that much about his royal highness's friend. Did he have a health condition? Did Nyx push him too hard on the way here? Guilt curls ugly in his gut.
Maybe he should have found a different way. Risked a single warp to a rooftop or something. The weight of the dagger sheathed against his hip felt like an accusation.
The stairs open out a little at the bottom at another old door, hanging half open. Nyx stops Prompto before they go through, nudging him around to face him.]
Prompto. Look at me.
[His expression is pointedly serious as he places his free hand on Prompto's chest, feeling how little his lungs are drawing in, how fast he's breathing. If he can't figure out how to help...]
It's going to be okay. I'm not going to let anything happen to you.
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He barely registers the nudging until he's facing Nyx, wide eyes looking up at him.
He wondered if he knew how handsome he is.
Right. Looking at him.
His gaze falters, it's... not right for him to catch eye contact with someone so cool, kind and attractive. He was too insignificant for that. The hand on his chest earned some heart palpitations for reasons other than his claustrophobia.
But he's brought back to reality, shaking his head a little, a burst of nervous laughter bubbling from him.]
O-Oh. I.
[Swallowing hard.]
I... have a. A thing?
A thing.
With small enclosed spaces.
no subject
The guilt grows and latches on. It twitches across his face before he schools his expression. He hadn't known, but that was no excuse. He should have made sure. Hell, he could have just kicked that guy's ass and then this wouldn't have been an issue at all. It wouldn't have been the first time he'd gotten into brawls in these places.
The Glaive didn't have problems like that, so he's not entirely sure how to handle it. He defaults to coaching through the strains of using too much magic, hoping that somewhere it might be similar enough to help.]
Look at me.
[It's soft, but direct this time. Meant to catch and hopefully keep Prompto's focus. He spreads his fingers and very deliberately deepens his own breathing.]
Watch me. Take deep breaths.
[He exaggerates the movement of his chest, inhaling slowly and breathing out in order for Prompto to try and match it, never breaking eye contact.]
It's okay.
It's sturdy. There'll be light, and I'm going to be right by your side. The Glaive and I have been through here a lot. I will personally guarantee your safety. I promise you.
[Deep, steady breaths.]
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But he's taking deep breaths, breathing with him.
Okay... okay.]
I know...
[He didn't mean to let that come out as shaky as it did, but at least his heart rate was going down and his breaths came out more steady. Closing his eyes, letting out a far more solid breath.]
Thanks... I'm sorry I'm being so lame. I can continue now, promise.
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You should look up the definition of lame. The man I see in front of me is far from feeble.
[He ruffles his hand over Prompto's hair proudly, and uses his foot to nudge the door open all the way.]
It takes a lot of courage to go somewhere that every fiber of your being is fighting against without complaint.
[He steps into the tunnel proper, lifting his blazing hand to shed more light on it. It's big enough that they could comfortably walk next to each other, with old burnt out bulbs along the ceiling that maintenance must have used back when the tunnel was active. The walls are covered in multi-coloured graffiti that stretch even along the occasional access door. He waits for Prompto, patient and watchful.
Fortunately they won't be in here long. He knows just where to go.]
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He is so thankful for the hair ruffle, even though he protests it weakly by ducking his head and trying to shoo the man away. Muttering a 'thanks' under his breath.
Prompto not knowing how to respond to positive feedback? Makes him keep his mouth shut, nodding a little as he let's Nyx go first. Watching him a moment before he joins him.]
Man... I didn't even know these places existed.
[Something to break the quiet, stepping a little closer to the older man. He felt safe, the warmth from the flame also made him feel better. He shudders a little at how the shadows danced around as they walked, biting back a whine.]
...Do you believe in ghosts?
[A pause.]
I-I mean. I don't! ...But if they did exist I bet they'd be haunting a place like this.
no subject
I believe in daemons.
[Believed in them since the day he first saw one bearing down on the Glaive. It wasn't a good memory. They'd been too inexperienced.]
Outside the Wall? A place like this would be perfect for them. Old, abandoned, forgotten history in ruins.
[If he had to pick a fear.]
But I trust the king. I trust the Wall. If there are any ghosts here...they're the ones watching over their people. Or so the legend goes.
[That he's not so sure he believes in. They all grew up with stories of the Old Wall, but... he shrugs a shoulder.]
Wonder what they'd have lost, to be haunting a quiet place like this.
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He steps a little closer, bumping shoulders and he apologizes under his breath.
Prompto contemplates what was last said, turning his gaze down to watch shadows flicker and the slight wobble in his own steps.
To haunt a place like this...]
Maybe they never had anything in the first place.
[It's blurted out before he can stops himself. And now that it's out there he can't bring it back. Hands stretched out in front of him, entwining his fingers together nice and tight to the point his knuckles ache a little.]
A lonely place for a lonely sort of people. I think... if you're so used to the quiet and darkness, where no one knows you exist... you'd be drawn to places like these. Couldn't be near people, it's too noisy and you'd be forced to watch the sort of thing you were never able to obtain when you're alive.
[A tremble. In his tone and his hands, so he untangles his fingers, his right arm stretching to the side so he can touch the old and forgotten concrete and stone that made up the walls.]
So you go somewhere forgotten.
[A beat.]
That's what I think.
[It hits too close to home, and he's not sober enough to realize how it all sounds. Until he does and he blinks back unshed tears. Oh great. He's an emotional drunk! That's not manly!
Huffing out an amused sound, scuffing his shoe lamely.]
Don't listen to me, they fed me waaaaaaaay too many drinks back there! Got me thinking dumb things.
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What stops him--not abruptly, but a gradual slowing of steps until he's standing and watching Prompto--is how vulnerable he suddenly sounds. As if talking about spirits is somehow personal. The fire flickers, magic a warm, grounding tug in his veins.
He doesn't quite understand. He's seen Prompto and the Prince interact. They were inseperable, practically brothers. His Highness clearly thought the world of him. All Prompto had to do was ask-
But would he? He brushes off a panic attack like it means nothing, shrugs off concern as if he doesn't think people should spend the time and care on him. Probably hasn't even hinted at this around his friends. He's so vibrant'Don't listen to me.' 'Forget it, I'm being dumb.' 'It doesn't matter.'
It meets the guilt lingering in his chest and twists, an ugly lump in his throat. If things were different, Prompto could have been one of them. Almost all of the Glaive had been alone before Regis gave them a purpose. Lost with nothing left to guide them, save for a talent and the trust of a King.
His free hand taps on the hilt of the kukri at his hip and he looks down for a moment; struggling with himself.
Nyx breaks the silence with an uncharacteristically hesitant tone.]
I...want to show you something.
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...All of it was stupid.
Did Nyx finally realize he rescued a total mess?
Prompto turns, worrying his fingers together and his bottom lip between his teeth. He can't quite make eye contact, taking a nervous little step forward towards him. But hesitant.]
...Yeah?
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Astrals, Nyx, this is stupid. He takes a deep breath and twists the handle.
Despite the rust and age, the door swings open with barely a whisper of sound. The hingest all much newer than anything else down here. Inside is a room with metal bunks. He absolutely does not pause at all as he steps through and moves to a box in the corner. A few buttons and a swift smack later, and the small generator hums to life. Nyx extinguishes the flame as a lamp wired to the ceiling overhead switches on.
It was clearly put in long after the place was abandoned. The wires were exposed, taped to the ceiling and wall to keep the lamp centered. The bedclothes on several of the bunks also looked newer than ancient, and only marginally dusty. It's clearly a place someone has slept in within the last few years. Several someones.
On a small, twisted table between bunks there's a small collection of books and a deck of cards. Tucked underneath one of the beds is a container of water bottles. There are small chests under the other beds that haven't looked like they've been open for awhile.
The room itself seems plain. The graffiti artists from the tunnel didn't seem to have touched this one. The walls were the same old stone as the rest, with no adornments to imply people lived here once. But Nyx stands on the other side of the room to face the door, and then gestures above it with a nod of his head.]
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Remaining quiet as he watches the man enter the room, holding back the flurry of questions he wanted to ask. What is this place? Who stays here? Is this what he wanted to show him? Why?
Instead he leans against the door frame, rubbing his arm idly.
Only when Nyx motions for him does he step through the threshold and into the room. Checking the ceiling and maybe the corners for spiders (listen, arachnophobia was also a very real fear of his, and this looked like a spidery place.) But he couldn't see any or anything that would concern himself.
Suddenly feeling shy, he averts his gaze... rubbing his arm again.]
So uh... what is this place?
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Galahd was written up there in Nyx's own hand; his name messy underneath. It's been a long time since he looked at it.
He moves to sit on one of the bunks, resting his elbows on his knees and linking his fingertips together.]
Most of us were refugees. Kids from small towns that had no hope of standing up against the roll of the empire. I guess you could say I was a "ghost" when I arrived in Insomnia.
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S-Sorry... if I said something to offend you.
[The ghost thing.]
But you're not a ghost anymore, right?
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He shifts his weight to the left along the bed, a silent invitation for Prompto to sit.]
The King saved me. Made me what I am today, it just took a long time to get there.
A lot of us joined together. Not all of us made it. But those of us that did worked twice as hard for the ones that didn't. And when it got a little too much to be alone at night...we'd come here. We'd remember.
[He pauses long enough that his words almost feel weighted when he opens his mouth again.]
Everyone has something, Prompto. Whether it's a grand purpose or the trust of a friend. Maybe you just...really like Wednesday morning cartoons.
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...He is overthinking and he knows that.
Hands in his lap, fingers entwined again and he focuses on that, and not the man next to him.]
Oh... I see. That makes sense. It's nice that you all could have this, at the very least.
[But his throat tightens as he listens.
Everyone has something.
His chin trembles and he makes a strained sound that could be thought of as a laugh.]
N-No... no, I know that. I do. I've got Noct, I've got photography. A-And- [Clearing his throat over the lump that was forming.]
I'm lucky, you know? He's a great friend, I've admired him for years. Only... Only recently did I think I was good enough to approach him. I wasn't much when I was a kid, a chubby loner in an empty house. A nobody who wasn't quite right to meet a prince.
But I worked at it. I worked so hard.
Running... helped me reach my goals, but it was also something to do in the morning instead of sitting around an empty kitchen. Something to do after school before I resigned myself to homework, supper then bed. I... I still like to read and play video games by myself, because that's what I always did.
[It was all just coming out and he couldn't stop it. His cheeks felt wet but the reason wasn't registering. Nyx didn't need to hear this, no one needed to hear this. He probably should have slipped his phone in his pocket and tried to duck out of the bar on his own. He always turned into a sad little mess after drinking. Especially when he drank alone.]
But... at the end of the day, when Noct is back home and being a Prince, who am I really? My apartment is so... big? Meant for a family. I don't even remember what a family is. I'm not even allowed beyond the gates to visit my best friend, because I'm insignificant, a lowly peasant scuffing the heels of royal boots.
I'm- I'm okay with it? I think I am. Because the few hours I get, where I can laugh and joke and be okay... it's nice. But I don't like going home. It's empty there... it's quiet. And it makes me feel worthless and insignificant.
Like. Like I don't belong.
[There was so much more that he didn't say. How he would talk constantly to fill the silence within those walls. Turn on the television nice and loud, so the empty spaces had sound. Some sort of life.]
...It's why I went to those bars tonight. I just... wanted to be near people even though I was alone.
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It's a far cry from not being able to visit your best friend whenever you want to. Nyx, at least, has friends that go through the same things as he does. Friends he can share a beer with and vent.
He leans close enough so that their shoulders are touching, at a bit of a loss.]
You've got a better track record than me. [His tone is even, if a bit self-deprecating.] I don't think I've ever left that bar without being in the middle of the fight. [Until tonight.
Joking aside.]
His Highness values you. I know for a fact he has a sneaking out contingency plan on the off chance he's needed. [Whether it'll work or not is anyone's guess, really, but it's there.]
And...
You have my number. [It's both a fact, and an offer. You asked him for help, and he came. Very few can say they have a Glaive at their side when they need one. Sure, initially it was more out of a need to keep His Highness's best friend out of danger, but he's come to know Prompto a lot more now. He suspects that next time he won't even think about Prince Noctis before agreeing to come.]
Any time, day or night. If I'm able, then there's nothing that'll keep me from answering.
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He's quiet for a long moment, worrying his fingers together a bit more, trying to pull them free because his finger joints were starting to ache.
Finally he's wiping his eyes on the hem of his shirt, which he's pulling out because man... did he ever get gross with the waterworks. Ugh... in front of someone he admired so much. Good job, Prompto.]
Yeah...
Yeah.
[Finally a smile breaks on his face, it's shy and simple but it's there.]
You don't need to do that, but I appreciate it. You were incredible tonight. Savin' my butt.
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[Now that is a cheeky smirk on his face. He will remember that moment until he's dead; you'd better believe it.
Nyx wraps his arm around Prompto's shoulders this time, pulling him close against his side and gripping reassuringly.]
I promised you food.
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